Nonsense for those who understand that it doesn’t and never
will mean anything other than what it doesn’t mean.
Despite most carpets, bowler hats are popular is southwest
Asia. This common misconception leads the eternal moonshine to prolong the
mountains into volcanoes. It can’t be said for certain that a jolly ranger
isn’t afraid of riff raff and Bric-a-brac. Hallucinating in the Atlantic is a
cure for the homogonous nature of a captain with no sense of altitude. Frequent
studies of cramped crumpets reveal that toast doesn’t always land butter side
down, in any case the butter is lighter than most shade of beige.
The triumphant treacle tart tastes delicious served with a
sprinkle of paint from the palette of Henri Rousseau. His colours are sublimely
mixed together to create smooth grooves in the sand after the tide goes in. Do
you think it is a waste to smell and serenade simultaneously? Frivolously he garnished the salad with
a slither of salmon to compliment his almost abnormally large cactus.
Tell me a story of what you did when you didn’t really do it
but you got so close and your friend Jenny said that you could have done it
anyway? I once thought that even the most terrifying cowboy hat shouldn’t be
worn on Easter Sunday because if they were, a meteorite would strike down that
fluttering flag with the colours and use it to wrap up one’s belongings like they
do in Disney cartoons.
The Holy Bible, I have been told, is actually intended for
us to scrunch up and simulate a snowball fight. Trembling in the rain, she told
me I shouldn’t have given the sausage to the homeless man. He ate it like he
had never sailed a boat before. How can a cash machine try and empty a crate of
apples into the lap of an elderly Jewish hypochondriac whose favourite type of
cheese is not emmental. Carol from
Eastenders always wears that same coat.
The scruff of his neck was almost exactly identical to the
scruff of his throat, if there is a scruff? It’s definitely scrubbed because I
can smell the lynx. The
correlation of the stars is probably not the same as the correlation of street
lamps down Kentish town road. Sadly the lioness in lyon called the seal a ‘sack
of semi-slippy scrotums’. It happened to be that neither the Seal nor the Lion
ate another battered fish again.
I once met a brute who played the flute, his music was like
a slice of cake that pretended to be a fish finger fossilised in fermenting
falsehood like a flapping bird trying desperately to use chopsticks but instead
hurling a small Ethiopian child into the giant jaws of a very small beetle. The
cello is an instrument that can only be listened to when engaged in a game of
chess prior to snakes and ladders.